Lead Me Not into Temptation
by airiat
Summary: A more thoughtful, extensive version of the Dragonborn DLC plus OC x Teldryn Sero.
1. Chapter 1: Outlander

**I'm new to this website, so bear with me while I figure things out.**

 **I do use some dialogue that is directly from the game and tether my plot to that of the Dragonborn DLC, but with substantial creative liberties (no one wants to read about a million fetch quests). I also have taken some liberties with the lore in order to better fit the kind of narrative I'm trying to tell, but I do retain the overall spirit of the game. If you're not a hardcore lore buff, you probably won't notice a difference. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

 _Daughter of the High King of Skyrim, Fjoara Ebonhand was born into wealth and nobility, greatness having been expected of her from a young age. Little did she know, that greatness would find her not as heir to the throne, but in an extraordinary encounter with a dragon one afternoon just short of her twentieth birthday. Afraid of the new trajectory her life has taken, Fjoara fled her home and began a quiet life shrouded in anonymity._

 _Over the next few years, Fjoara wanders Skyrim searching for herself in solitude until she is forced to travel to the remote island of Solstheim after thwarting an assassination attempt made on her. While there, she meets a cynical, jaded Dunmer mercenary and a bright, kindhearted warrior of an ancient Nordic tribe who become her closest allies in her fight against the evil forces threatening Solstheim. Will Fjoara find the courage to step into her untapped power and claim victory, or will she meet the same untimely fate as the first of her kind?_

* * *

The ashen air blows dust into my lungs as I step off the ship. Gjalund, the Nord who gave me passage to this island, speaks to me as I start to walk down the dock-something about him hoping I can find out what is going on around here-but I pay him little mind. My foreign surroundings take up far too much of my attention for conversation.

It is early morning, and the rising sun paints the sky a yellow that seems almost unnatural. To the right, I can see a large edifice built with the Imperial architecture of Cyrodiil, but in front of me further back is a tiered building constructed of sloping lines that look almost like the shell of an insect. The grounds are coated in a grey ash, with a path forged through it to the town. The few trees that stand are dead and snapped in half, or layered in so much ash that they may as well be. Beyond everything and out into the sea, I can see the Red Mountain spraying its contents into the sky, unending.

I continue to walk down the dock, but before I am able to cross the boundary into the town, I am approached by a Dunmer wearing fine clothes. His stature is small, but I can tell by the way that he carries himself that he is high-ranking.

"I don't recognize you, so I'll assume this is your first visit to Raven Rock, outlander. State your intentions," he says, placing himself in from of me to block my path.

Stopping to stand in front of him, I respond, "I'm looking for Miraak. Do you know him?"

"I... I'm unsure. I swear I know the name, but I cannot place it," he says slowly, his eyes nearly glazing over. His reaction is unnerving-trance-like.

"Can you tell me anything about him?" I ask.

"I don't think so. I'm not... The name has something to do with the Earth Stone, I think. But I'm not sure what," he says.

His facial expression remains far away, so I decide not to press any further on the subject, hoping that someone else in town will know where I can find this Earth Stone. "Why are you so suspicious of visitors?" I ask him.

"I have to be. As Second Councilor, the security of Raven Rock is my primary concern," the Dunmer says.

"I can assure you I am here with only the purest of intentions," I say. "My name is Fjoara Ebonhand."

"Adril Arano," he says, and he steps slightly aside to let me pass.

"It has been a pleasure to meet you," I tell him, smiling politely as I walk forward.

He only nods. "Just remember, Raven Rock is sovereign territory of House Redoran. This is Morrowind, not Skyrim. While you're here you will be expected to abide by our laws. We're watching you."

Arano's words are somewhat foreboding, but my sense of purpose remains unwavering. As I continue into the town, I realize how little of it there actually is. Three more of those insect-like structures form a semi-circle around a well in the center, but they are much smaller and look more like homes. A couple of these buildings have small shops set up out front, and there is a smithy in one of the low stone shacks that line the coast. The two Dunmer who tend their shops look presentable enough, but it is quite clear that this settlement lives in relative poverty. The remaining building has a guard standing at the door, and a sign that reads "The Retching Netch". I haven't the slightest idea of what a netch is, but I figure the building for a tavern and enter.

Once inside, I am met with a small horseshoe-shaped ground floor level with tables and benches lining the walls. Standing in front of the fireplace against the back wall is a Dunmer stirring food in a cooking pot. At my entrance, he turns around and welcomes me to the "cornerclub" before returning to his cooking. Sitting at a table in the corner nearest to him is another Dunmer who, by the looks of his armor, must be a mercenary. I opt not to speak with either of them and make my way down the wide set of stairs in the middle of the room that leads down into the rest of the interior. The room at the bottom is far more immense than what the building appears to be from the outside. The ceilings are vaulted with a network of supporting archways below and the furniture is so sparse that my footsteps echo in this cavern as I approach the bar. The Dunmer tending it looks up at me with surprise as if I am the first person he has seen all day, and it is then that I realize how empty the inn is.

"Welcome to the Retching Netch Cornerclub, home of the finest sujamma that will ever grace your lips," he says when I am near.

"Sujamma?" I ask as I take a seat at the bar.

"As if it wasn't already apparent that you're not from around here," he says, producing a tankard from underneath the bar and pouring drink into it from one of the yellow clay jugs that sit on the counter. He slides it over to me. "An authentic Dunmer recipe, but with my own personal twist."

I hold the mug up to my lips for a moment, getting a whiff of how potent the liquor is, but drink anyway. The taste is bitter in an earthy way but pleasantly warm as it slides down my throat. I set the tankard on the bar, pressing the back of my hand to my mouth so as not to shudder from the strength of the drink.

"This makes mead seem like cow's milk," I say after a moment. He laughs and moves to refill my mug, but I hold a hand out to stop him. "Unfortunately, I find myself on your island for business, not pleasure."

He looks at me curiously. "What business could you possibly have on Solstheim, outlander?"

"I'm looking for Miraak," I answer. "Can you tell me anything about him?"

The barkeep's eyes fog over in the same way Arano's did, and the similarity in their reactions to the name "Miraak" causes me to grow somewhat concerned. "The name is familiar, but I am not sure where from."

"I had a feeling you would say that," I respond. "What about the Earth Stone?"

Instantly, the life snaps back into his eyes. "Oh! The Earth Stone. It's directly west of Raven Rock, just outside of town. I'm not sure what interest it would hold to someone who isn't Skaal, though."

"That's what I'm trying to determine," I say as I rise to my feet, setting a few septims on the counter. "Thank you for the drink and the information."

"Safe travels, outlander," he says.

"It's Fjoara," I call behind me as I start up the stairs.

"Geldis," he calls back.

When I reach the top landing, I notice that the Dunmer mercenary has moved to lean against the wall by the exit as if he were waiting for someone. I pay him no mind as his services are not needed. However, when I approach the door, he pushes himself off the wall and saunters over to me. I equip myself mentally to dismiss his pitch.

"I couldn't help but overhear that you're headed to the Earth Stone," the mercenary says. "An interesting choice of tourist destination, outlander."

"Well, if you had been listening properly, you would also know that I am here purely for business," I say, looking him up and down once before lazily glancing away to emphasize my disinterest.

"I wouldn't dare think anything else," he says with the hint of a smile. "Teldryn Sero: the best swordsman in all Morrowind is at your service … for the right price."

I pause for a moment as if in consideration. "And what might that be?"

"Five thousand septims," he answers, the smile spreading to both sides of his mouth.

I let out a loud laugh, and I see the Dunmer at the fireplace startle at the sound of it. The grin on the face of this mercenary touches every feature now. He knows the game I'm playing at.

"For that price, I think I'll go it alone," I say, pointedly resting a hand on the pommel of my sword as if the beams of light radiating from its hilt didn't already catch one's eye. "That's not to say I wasn't capable of it to begin with."

Teldryn humors me and drops his gaze to where my hand lays. "Is that . . . ?"

"Dawnbreaker? Indeed it is," I respond, cutting him off before he could finish his sentence.

He appears to be genuinely taken aback at this and studies my face for a moment, a single eyebrow raised. "Who are you?"

"No one you will ever know," I answer.

He shrugs. "My loss, I'm sure."

"I might disagree," I respond. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

Teldryn opens his mouth as if he were going to speak, so I pause before walking away to let him, but he just closes it and shakes his head before returning to his seat in the back of the room. At that, I finally leave the tavern and make my way to the Earth Stone.


	2. Chapter 2: An Irrefutable Offer

I hear the clang of hammers on stone before I see people. As I draw nearer still, a low, synchronized chanting reaches my ears. " Here in his shrine, that they have forgotten. Here do we toil, that we might remember. By night we reclaim, what by day was stolen . . ." When the Earth Stone, a massive shard of rock rising from the ground, comes into view, I discover a group of people building an unusual structure around the stone. It is composed of a series of pointed arches circling the stone, whose appearance is far more precise and harsh than the organic construction of Raven Rock and the stone itself. The sight of this alone would be enough to realize something was amiss had it not also been for the hypnotic state the workers seemed to be in-swinging their hammers and chanting in perfect rhythm.

When I reach the Earth Stone, I notice a Dunmer wizard standing a distance away from it observing the situation. He is evidently not compelled by the force of whatever is driving this construction, so I approach him in hopes of learning more.

"You there . . . You don't seem to be in quite the same state as the others here. Very interesting. May I ask what it is you're doing here?" he says, turning to me when I reach him.

"I'm looking for someone named Miraak," I respond.

He thinks for a moment, appearing to grow frustrated as he tugs on his goatee. "Miraak . . . Miraak . . . It sounds familiar but I can't quite place . . . ," he says. His expression then suddenly lights up. "Oh. Wait. I recall. But that makes very little sense. Miraak's been dead for thousands of years."

"That cannot be. In Skyrim, a group of his cultists attempted to assassinate me, claiming that he is soon returning," I say. "Then, I when I arrive here, no one can seem to tell me what's going on, despite the fact those cultists were from Solstheim."

"Fascinating. I hadn't considered that Miraak could be the source of this strange behavior," the wizard says. "I'm afraid I can't give you any answers. But there are ruins of an ancient temple of Miraak's toward the center of the island. If I were you, I'd look there."

I nod. "Thank you for your help," I say, reaching out to shake his hand. "My name's Fjoara."

"I am Master Neloth of House Telvanni," he responds, reluctantly returning the gesture with an air of slight distaste. The tone in which he announces this suggests importance in the title, but I am ignorant to what it means.

I bid him farewell, and return to Raven Rock. The day has grown old, and I decide I best retire for the evening. It would be unwise to travel across foreign land in the darkness where I could be ambushed by threats. At home in Skyrim, nighttime does not halt my travel, but that is only because I know the roads and regions to their fullest extent. Besides, I am curious to learn more about the history of this island—perhaps I can gain insight into Miraak and his presence here, past or present.

As it is now nearing evening, people have closed up their shops, and the only people left outside are the guards. Although when I enter The Retching Netch, I find it scarcely more populated than it was this afternoon. There are are a few people on the first floor, but they look to only be poor miners, so I cannot imagine they would have much to say. I walk downstairs and am met with an equally vacant room; it is only Geldis, his worker, the mercenary, another collective of miners, and the Breton who was tending the smithy earlier. I decide to approach him, greeting him and asking if I can have a seat in the empty chair at his table. When he grants me permission, I practically fall into the seat with exhaustion. I pull off my gauntlets and set my sword next to me against the wall. My travels have finally managed to catch up to my body, and it is a relief to rest.

"You look just as out of place here as I do," I say to him. "What brings a Breton to Raven Rock?"

He laughs. "A fine question, and the one that I hear most often from visitors to our town. I wish I had a more romantic tale to tell, but I was simply seeking my fortune and chose Raven Rock to ply my trade. Besides, knowing how to repair bonemold armor wasn't very useful in Riften."

"Who taught you that?" I ask.

"I had a friend over there, a dark elf named Vanryth... a very talented armorsmith. Spent a lot of time with the guy swapping smithing techniques. Learned a heck of a lot, including how to repair bonemold. After he moved on to greener pastures, I decided to pack up, move out here and put those lessons to the test. Been here ever since," he says.

"How long has that been?" I ask.

He thinks for a moment. "Must be about a decade now."

"Do you know much about this island, then?" I ask.

"A fair amount, sure."

"What about someone named Miraak?"

His eyes cloud in the same way everyone else's had, and I sigh with disappointment, telling him to forget that I asked. This will likely be the last time I attempt to ask anyone this question. I am probably better off visiting the temple the Dunmer wizard told me about and uncovering for myself what may lie there.

At that moment, the tavern worker brings a drink over and walks away without saying anything. I look around the room to find out who gave it to me, and am not surprised when my eyes land on Teldryn to see that he is smiling, holding his own drink up in my direction. My present company follows my gaze and chuckles when he discovers who I am looking at.

"Already managed to find yourself an admirer in the short time you've been here?" he asks.

"No, he just wants my patronage," I reply, picking up the mug and taking a swig. I am expecting the harshness of sujamma, but am instead met with the familiar honey taste of mead. I am surprised by his consideration.

"Teldryn is a very capable spellsword. He'd be a strong ally to have watching your back," he says. "Been a while since he's had an employer."

"Likely because his fee is quite high," I respond, returning my attention back to the table.

The Breton nods. "But worth every copper from what I've heard."

I still can think of no compelling reason to hire him other than it is better his death than my own, should it come to that. Perhaps that is reason enough. It is also quite apparent that Solstheim is very much different from Skyrim, and it could serve me well to have a guide to cut down on the time I have to spend wandering lost. Still, I cannot justify the price he wants me to pay for his services.

"You've piqued my interest," I tell him. "Besides, I should thank him for the drink."

"Of course," he says. "The name's Glover Mallory, by the way."

"Any relation to Delvin Mallory?" I ask as I stand up, retrieving my sword and gauntlets.

"Yeah, he's my brother."

"Ah. He's a good friend of mine. We do a lot of business together," I respond, smiling in a way that should indicate everything else I cannot say. Glover returns that smile, and I know he understands.

"Give him my regards next time you see him," he says, and I assure him I will. We part ways, and I walk to Teldryn's table, wordlessly taking a seat next to him.

"So nice of you to join me," Teldryn says, looking quite pleased.

"Glover told me a bit about you," I say without acknowledgment.

"All good things, I presume?" he asks.

"I'm willing to make a deal with you," I say, ignoring him again.

"What do you have in mind?" he asks, suddenly growing serious.

"2,000 septims, and twenty-five percent of anything paid to me while you are in my service," I respond.

"Less than half my price," Teldryn says, and I can hear in his voice that he is more entertained than insulted. "A very . . . tempting offer."

"Tell me about your last patron," I say while he rather dramatically mulls it over. "How long might it have been since you had one?"

At this, he looks quite perturbed, so it is clear I finally struck a nerve. "I can't help that Solstheim is not the most prosperous place to work in."

"Right, and now I am offering you work," I say as I rise to my feet, gathering my belongings. "If you decide to come with me, we leave first thing in the morning. I hope to see you then."

He says nothing as I leave the table and find Geldis to purchase lodging for the night. Once I pay him, he leads me to my room and leaves me to my own accord, wishing me a good night. I place my sword in the weapon rack by the door then go about removing my armor, afterward putting on the tunic for sleeping that I carry with me in my backpack. Once I am settled, I sit down in bed and write in my journal, recounting the day. When I am finished, I set it aside and lay down to rest.


End file.
